Myth and Legends of Torchwood
by Bekah26
Summary: Five different views into how Ianto Jones may be, and is, more than a teaboy


Omigosh, this is my first time writing one of these and I loved it, and I despaired. It was actually pretty hard. But I am so pleased with the results!

Each creature should be recognizable, but let me know if you can't figure it out. Reviews for this will be my birthday gift!

The first one especially has been plaguing me, and if a more experienced writer wants to take up the bunny, go right ahead; they're all for sale!

Warnings: some slashy innuendo, some violence, and some swears as Owen is a dirty boy.

Spoliers: starts after Jack's left and through season 2 of TW and DH season 4, up to The Stolen Earth.

Disclaimer: I am not getting paid, and really, I don't think RTD would want my ideas.

Enjoy!

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**Four Mythical Creatures That Ianto Jones Isn't, And One That He Might Be**

1.

He ignored the gore and focused on the unhappy grumbling, the soft Welsh vowels filling the alley in curses that he was sure wasn't all that polite.

Owen, breathing hard, leaned back against the wall and watched as Ianto tried to pick weevil out of his teeth. He dimly heard Gwen's and Tosh's frantic voices through the bluetooth but at this point he couldn't be arsed to respond. He couldn't help a weak chuckle as Ianto's great mouth made an expression that was the approximation of disgust at the taste of weevil, the claws finally freeing the bit of boiler suit that had been stuck between two large molars.

Finally Owen had enough of the silence. He gestured at the scattered body parts.

"Was that really necessary?"

"Would you rather I had left you to be mauled?" Ianto asked.

The voice was still recognizable and yet it wasn't. It was darker, deeper and fiercer. Owen suppressed a shudder, unsure if he would ever be able to look at his coworker the same again.

Jack was gone, so they had needed the teaboy out in the field, and Owen had worried that Ianto wouldn't be able to hack it. When they had been separated from the girls by a pack of weevils Owen had been sure that they were dead, until the first weevil lunged, only to be impaled by a great claw halfway through the leap. Owen had turned to see that Ianto Jones had melted away, to be replaced by a black-scaled creature about the size of the SUV, until it had unfurled large veined wings, and Owen knew in reality it was much larger. Its mouth had opened to reveal large and sharp teeth as it snarled at the weevils, hunches lowered as it prepared to attack, and then it had said: "Stay out of the way."

It was Ianto. Fuck. Ianto was a fucking dragon.

After that it had been a massacre, and it was all Owen could do to stay out of the way of the slashing tail and claws and the splattering of blood and limbs. The sight of Ianto biting one in half was one that he would definitely have to drink away.

Ianto was paying for the foreseeable future.

Afterwards, Owen had slid back and was lying against the alley wall while Ianto watched him from the corner of one brilliant blue eye and picked weevil bits out of his teeth.

"Do you breathe fire?" Owen asked, daring to meet the burning blue that hovered above him.

The magnificent beast had rolled its eyes and sighed in a way that made Owen feel simultaneously relieved, annoyed, and like breaking into Jack's cabinet to get the good liqueur out.

"Owen," the dragon said, "don't be a prat."

2.

There was one weekend off a month that was Ianto's, and had always been Ianto's. The weekend had been his through University, through Torchwood One and Lisa, and through his first year at Torchwood Three. Before he left he always took the time to make sure the Hub had fresh supplies, that the others knew that he would be unreachable, and despite Jack's pouting, had made sure his Captain had enough paperwork to ensure that he wouldn't come looking for Ianto; Ianto was out of reach and out of touch.

Climbing out of his car, Ianto looked out over the Welsh countryside and breathed in the scent of fresh air (and grass) and walked down the path to set up his camp. He learned from his mistakes, and so set up a (borrowed) parameter alarm so that he would know if anyone came near his car or his campsite. He set it up quickly and walked the trail until it opened up into an open, yet secluded, field. The land was actually heritage property, protected, and he knew that he would have the utmost secrecy here. He stripped himself quickly and stretched out, his body growing and adjusting to its natural form. While the suits, like the city, may look good, there were times when he needed the freedom to run; jogs through the park just didn't cover it.

He stamped one foot and then he was off.

As Ianto Jones, he was contained and reserved and suited; here, in his natural form, he was strong and free and powerful.

He loved the way the wind tickled his skin as he ran, the way that the ground gave way beneath his hooves as he jumped and dodged and basically played in the open area; he showed a freedom of spirit that he only came close to when he was with Jack, and usually only in bed. His laughter rose over the slopes and hills of the land and time flew by as he ran, and he felt all the stress of Torchwood fall away, and for the first time in weeks he felt the smile reach his eyes. This was why he needed these weekends; he needed to find himself again.

A small drizzle had come up and reluctantly he turned back to his camp, moving up to where he left his clothes with a small trot.

Jack stood there, holding them in one hand, and holding out a water bottle with the other.

Ianto cantered to a stop by him and took the bottle. "Jack. What are you doing here?"

I got bored," Jack smiled and eyed him, and where as Ianto Jones he would blush and stutter, here he was Ianto and he waited for Jack to speak.

"You're magnificent." Jack breathed. "As a boy I heard stories of your kind, but at that point they were more legend than truth."

Ianto sighed and, without taking his clothes from Jack, led him to his camp. "It's the same these days, as well. But there are places where we can still be." He could change back but at the delighted glee and excitement in Jack's eyes, he hesitated; he didn't want to be the one to bank that flame. So, he swallowed his pride.

"Would you like a life?"

"Really?" Jack's voice was hushed, awed, but his hands were already reaching forward eagerly. "Are you sure you can carry me?"

Ianto cast an amused smirk in his direction. "While you have been eating a good amount of biscuits lately, I do believe that in this shape I am large enough to carry you."

"Hmm," Jack purred as he ran a hand over Ianto's back flank. "Everything in this shape is larger."

"Jack!"

3.

Ianto mournfully held up the remains of his suit jacket, examining the damage that the acidic entrails had done to it, before admitting that it was unsalvageable. It had been Owen's fault; it always was, in his opinion, but this time it truly was. The team had found the remains of a bulbous balloon-like alien when Owen, the prat, had decided to poke it with a stick. The alien had popped, Ianto, quick thinking, turning his back and covering any exposed skin, had been the closest and therefore the only one sprayed. With a sigh he let the garment go and turned back to the team.

The others were staring at him, mouths agape and eyes frozen wide. He blinked at them, unsure why, until Jack broke free from his stupor and with gentle hands moved him sideways, revealing is back, and Ianto caught the edges of the shirt that had been eaten away.

Oh.

He swallowed.

"Bloody hell, Teaboy!" Owen exclaimed. "I always knew you were a fairy!"

Prat.

4.

Jack, who never wore his seatbelt anyways, had managed to escape through the door before it sealed itself but Ianto and Gwen weren't so lucky, and Jack could only watch as the Atmos controlled car plunged itself into the Bay with his remaining team trapped inside. With a scream born from desperation he tore off the coat and plunged himself into the water, desperate to get to the, desperate not to loose any more people. He found the sinking car, and tugged vainly on the door with no effect; already he was growing lightheaded, and his heartbeat frantically at the certainty of the two drowning within. He was propelled violently back as the windshield suddenly exploded outward, and two dark shapes pushed through the opening. The water was murky but he managed to see the shapes quickly speed their way to the surface and vanish. He started up after them but he had reached his limit, and with a gasp, he chocked and fell into darkness.

He came awake gasping, floundering, on the shore and wrapped in strong arms. A mouth rested against his own and Jack recognized the near silent litany of Welsh words pressed against his mouth. Turning he coughed the water in his mouth out and saw that Gwen was lying near him, alive but unconscious. Letting out a relieved breath he caught Ianto, it had to be Ianto, before he could pull away and ran his hand down his lover's back.

"That was too close," Jack said as he familiarized himself with Ianto's body, finding comfort through touch. His hands froze as they reached Ianto's arse; or, at least where it was supposed to be. Instead, Ianto's back dipped down further and the skin that Jack so loved blended into what his fingered recognized as scales, not unlike a fish, but definitely more silky. Pushing himself up on his elbows he looked down and saw that yes, Ianto's lower half was scaly and further examination revealed that Ianto had some very nice looking flukes. Ianto tried to pull away but Jack held firm.

"Nice tail."

Ianto sighed and stilled, sinking into Jack's arms.

"You're not mad?"

"Be hypocritical of me, considering you've just saved Gwen, and me," Jack shuddered at the thought of his body healing a multitude of tiny fish nibbles. "This a new development?"

"No, I'm a natural." Ianto said as he slide off Jack, not escaping, but moving his bulk off the other man to lay beside him; Jack eyed his lover, who really did have a lovely tail. He sighed as Ianto split it and formed legs once more, though his gaze focused on another lovely part of Ianto's anatomy.

"You certainly are."

Gwen, who had evidently woken, let out a squeak as she rolled their way.

"Ianto," she asked. "What happened to your pants?"

Ianto blushed and Jack took a moment, just one, to just lay back and watch as it traveled all the way down.

Lovely.

5.

Jack's world had stopped.

The Hub had burned. After facing Davros he had asked the Doctor to bring him back, worry for his team finally sinking in after the adrenaline and excitement had worn off, only to find the Hub gone, destroyed, and Gwen sitting in a forlorn huddle in the remains.

"What happened?" Jack asked, tripping over debris before finally stumbling to a seat beside Gwen.

"Ianto," she took a breath, "Ianto knocked me out and sealed me in your hole. He faced them alone, Jack. He was alone." She burst into fresh tears and Jack, fighting his own, pulled her into his arms.

"Whatever he did must have worked," Jack swallowed as he looked at the ruins. There was nothing left, no area un-scorched; there were only bare shells of what remained of the Daleks, gutted by fire that sill smoldered in the ruined casings.

"I can't even find his body," Gwen whispered. Jack closed his eyes and let the tears come, clearing paths on cheeks covered with ash.

"Oh Ianto," he keened.

There was a cry from far above them and then Myfanwy was gliding down to them, as soot covered as Gwen, and sporting slight burns on her wings and feet. She landed awkward, one talon clutched tight, and hobbled close to them. She let out a low moan and rested her head on the ground before them.

"Oh girl, you know, don't you?" Jack's hand trembled as it reached out to rub her crest. "You know he's gone."

At that Myfanwy let out a screech that caused both Gwen and Jack to flinch and raised her clenched foot in their direction.

"What's wrong?" Gwen asked. "Is she hurt?"

"I don't know." Jack leaned forward, still keeping a hold on Gwen, and touched the talon, only to have it open and drop something in his hand. When he didn't move she pushed at him with her head.

"What is it?"

Jack held it up and studied it.

"It's an egg."

The egg was smooth, with only slight rivets, and was speckled with reds and golds; he brought it closer to his face, studying it, when it began to pulse in his hands like a living heart. Gwen gasped and pulled away but Jack froze, watching at the egg began to glow and shakes, its shell cracking and opening in his hands until it finally broke in a flash of flame and light, and jack was left holding a small bird-like creature in his palms.

Myfanwy let out a cry that sounded joyful, and in the depths of Jack's mind he recognized it as the same cry that she usually greeted Ianto with, and took flight, rising above them to the heights of the Hub.

"Oh my god," Gwen breathed, crawling closer, her fingers shaking as they reached forward. The little creature rubbed up against them and cooed, and it's eyes opened.

Familiar eyes that had looked into Jack's own mere hours earlier, and had danced with mischievousness and determination and the promise of forever.

Gwen hovering close by his side, Jack raised the precious bundle in his hands and held it close to his heart.

Jack's world had started again.


End file.
